Die Sunden Des Vaterlandes (The Sins Of The Fatherland)
by The QPM
Summary: Private Frederick Zoller becomes enamoured with Emmanuelle Mimieux's cafe-owning older cousin, Violette - but he's not the only one who's smitten with the proprietress. A Fredrick Zoller/Hans Landa/OC love triangle.


Private Fredrick Zoller strolled past the window of the bar-café and quickly glanced inside. He noticed a fair-haired girl sat at a table smoking a cigarette and reading a book. He doubled back a couple of steps, peered in closer and then gently knocked on the window. The girl looked over the top of her book and saw the young German soldier with his dark, wavy hair and brown eyes, smiling at her. She immediately recognised who he was and putting down her book, smiled back at him. The expression on Fredrick's face then changed to slight embarrassment, as he realised that he had the wrong person. Frederick gesticulated 'sorry' with his hand, turned and started to walk away.

Smitten with his handsome features, the girl quickly stood up, went over to the window and rapped loudly on it, startling some of the other customers in the café. Fredrick turned back and looked at her, as she feverishly beckoned to him. He inquisitively cocked his head slightly to one side and then pointed to himself, mouthing the word, "Me?" She nodded her head vigorously and grinned, beckoning again. Fredrick shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "Hey, why not?" and began walking towards the entrance. The girl gulped down the rest of her wine and sat there waiting for him to appear. Seconds later, the door of the booth swung open and upon entering, Fredrick removed his cap and said, "Bonjour, mademoiselle."

She breathed out his name. "Fredrick Zoller."

"You know who I am?"

She smiled. "Oui."

Fredrick chuckled excitedly and ran his hand through his hair.

"Would you care to join me, Private Zoller?" she asked, motioning for him to take a seat.

Fredrick pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. "Please, call me Fredrick."

"Merci, Fredrick. So, may I ask who you mistook me for?" she enquired, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, of course. Her name is Emmanuelle Mimieux. I often see her sat at this table."

"_I know," _she thought, _"Because Emmanuelle told me."_

"She also owns the Le Gamaar cinema," continued Fredrick, "Do you know her?"

"I know her well. She's my cousin."

"Your cousin?" replied Fredrick, pointing at her, open-mouthed, "Well, that accounts for my mistake then. You're both so alike and may I also say, so very pretty."

"Merci beaucoup," she replied, blushing.

"I can definitely see the resemblance between you and Emmanuelle," said Fredrick, studying the girl intently, "Although you do look more like twin sisters than cousins."

"You are too kind, monsieur," she replied, fondling the stem of her empty wine glass, "But alas there are quite a few differences between Emmanuelle and myself. I, for one, am at least a decade older than her, plus she..."

"Ah, but a woman is like a fine wine. She improves with age," interrupted Fredrick, "Please, continue what you were saying."

"Emmanuelle…" she paused, lowering her eyes, but still keeping him in her line of vision.

Fredrick gestured 'what exactly' with his facial expression.

"She hates Germans."

"And what about you?" he asked, softly, "Do you hate them too?"

"I tend not to judge a book by its cover," she answered, looking down at her novel and then back at him, "Or by the uniform they wear either."

"I'm very glad," replied Fredrick, grinning broadly, "Mademoiselle, I see that your glass is empty. May I buy you a drink?"

"I'd love one, but I have to get back to work now. Lunch is over," she said, standing up.

Fredrick quickly stood up too. "Might I be permitted to walk you there?"

The girl laughed. "We're already here."

"You're a waitress? Here, in this café?"

"Not just a waitress, but the proprietress too."

"You own a café and Emmanuelle owns a cinema. My, you must come from a very enterprising family, Mademoiselle."

"I'm also a singer and if you'd care to come back here later this evening, you can buy me a drink and hear me sing," she replied, opening the door of the booth.

"But wait, I do not know your name."

She looked down at the vase of violets on the table. "My name is Violette. Violette Mimieux."

Fredrick reached over and plucked a violet from out of the vase, gently shaking the water from its stem. A single droplet landed on her white blouse and it started to spread outwards, turning the area of cloth transparent. Fredrick apologised in German and then threaded the stem through an open buttonhole at the neck of her blouse; his fingers purposely making contact with her skin just above the breastbone. He looked at her and then down at the damp stain on her blouse, the lacy strap of her petticoat clearly visible through the material. Fredrick lightly touched the area with his index finger and then dropped his arm back down by his side. Violette looked at Fredrick and smiled.

Fredrick took hold of her hand, kissed it lingeringly and said, "Until tonight, sweet Violette, I bid you adieu."

Then he plucked another violet from the vase, inhaled its scent, tucked it into his lapel and left the café.

End Of Chapter One


End file.
